Page 5 of Icing the Cougar (Hockey USA Collection #7)

Jasper

The studio is bright with the lights reflecting off the floor to ceiling mirrors. I toe-heeled my Nikes off by the door under the sign that points to where shoes belong.

“Socks stay on?” I ask Trinity, rocking back on bare heels just to watch her eyes flick down.

“Bare feet help with grounding.” Trinity’s voice has this melted-honey tone that people use when they’re trying to sell you kale smoothies. Her toes peek out from flowy pants – bright red polish, same shade she’d worn that night in the hotel room.

The mat rack is crouched in the corner, and I grab the top one. “This thing’s thinner than my rookie year paycheck,” I say, unrolling it with a snap.

Her laugh comes out half-choked – good. “We’re cultivating presence, not pillow forts.”

When I straighten, she stands close enough that her elbow brushes my bicep. My knuckle grazes hers taking the block she offers me. Static jumps between us.

“Starting in child’s pose,” she instructs, sinking onto her own mat with grace. The neckline of her tight-fitting tank top dips just enough to show the swell of beautiful, plump breasts, causing my palms to go slick against the mat.

“You mean the fetal position?” I crouch until my knees pop, jersey shorts riding up to expose hip flexors still twitchy from our last game. “Should I cry while I’m down here? Really commit?”

“Focus on your breath, Mr. Wright.” She exhales.

“Jasper,” I correct, cheek pressed to mat. “Unless you want me calling you ‘Ms...’” I pause just long enough to see her throat jump “...Harper.” I close my eyes once she looks directly at me.

When I open them, it’s the auburn that hits me first. Her hair’s in a loose ponytail. There’s so much of it, I wonder if the thing’s going to unravel and fall in my face. I’d be okay with that. Her smell. The hotel. That night. Trinity. It’s crazy, her not remembering. Or maybe it’s perfect.

“You’re very tight, Jasper.” She’s pushing down on my shoulders, and I’m doing my best not to lose it.

This is supposed to be yoga, not torture.

My way to unwind. She’s leaning over me, and I’m back to thinking about the hotel.

“We’re supposed to breathe here, not smirk.

” I turn my head to look at her over my shoulder. She’s smiling, and I’m so damn hard.

We’re barely into the first pose, and she’s talking in a soft, coaxing voice that has my dick twitching.

“It’s my first time… doing yoga,” I say, voice heavy with innuendo.

“But I’m very skilled with other positions.

” Her knee brushes my thigh. She acts like she doesn’t notice, but I catch the quick glance down, the flicker of something in her eyes.

Recognition? Interest? I’m drinking her in, and I’m right back there.

Her, arching under me to get closer. My tongue, tracing a line up her pussy to each nipple.

She moves back to her mat, and I slowly unfold my body to a sitting position. “Let’s open those hips,” she says, like it’s easy. I think of her lips open, the way they were in the hotel. “Show me what you’ve got,” she adds, like I’m not already showing more than I bargained for.

“Maybe start with a pose that won’t kill me?” I ask, doing my best to follow her lead. “Some of us are not so nimble.” My voice is pure sarcasm, but she just laughs and makes me lie on my back to press my leg to my chest.

“We’ll work on that ego after we open those hips.” She comes over and pushes my knee even closer to my chest. “What sport did you say you play?”

“Competitive breathing,” I say, trying to concentrate on anything but the curve of her ass in those yoga pants.

The room smells like lavender, and I’m trying not to think about other scents from that night.

Vanilla, sweat, my cologne on her skin. She helps me fold into a new pose, all bent over and twisted up.

Her hair brushes my cheek, making me take a deep breath just to try to tame my hormone raging beast inside that wants to come out to play.

She’s relaxed, stretching me past sanity.

I close my eyes and picture that ponytail coming undone.

It takes me somewhere I can’t control, so I let go and ride the thought.

Her under me. Squirming, wanting it. Her eyes wide as she demands I fuck her harder.

Yet, her voice snaps me back to reality.

I’m stretched like a pretzel, and she’s acting all professional.

“How are we doing down there?” she asks, crouching over me like I’m a wounded animal.

“Trying to relax,” I say. “Maybe it’s your proximity that’s the problem.

” She’s focused. Her hands push me deeper, and I wonder if she feels how hard I am.

I think about how easy it’d be to have her on her back as I give my body permission to let go and not hide my feelings any longer.

She’ll soon discover what she’s doing to me.

“Any discomfort?” she asks, leaning close.

“Only that you don’t remember. Nice mark on your shoulder,” I say with a wink.

I watch her reaction. Her lips part, and her hand slips on my leg and her fall perfectly positions her hand to rub over my rock-hard cock. The look on her face is priceless.

“Guess you meet a lot of guys since you don’t remember me.” Her eyes go wide, then narrow, and I see the precise moment when something clicks in that pretty little brain of hers. She’s thinking hotel. That night.

She stands up so fast I’m back to wondering if she’s playing me. It makes me hotter. “Does that mean you’re the one...?” Her voice trails off. I keep her guessing.

“Who drugged you? No. But I was the one who ended up taking care of you. Oh, yes, I took very good care of you that night.” I’m breathless from yoga. From her body this close. From remembering that night and the way our bodies moved together.

“Should I be worried?” she asks, almost shy.

“About which part?” I smirk, pretending to stretch. This time I’m showing off on purpose. “Taking very good care of you again? As in right here, right now.” I finish with a smirk.

I let the innuendo hang there, knowing it’ll twist her up more than any pose. She blushes, but I can tell she likes it. She starts in on another yoga move, her voice more serious. Shakier. “Downward dog,” she says. “Like this.”

“Like the hotel,” I say. Her head jerks up, but her body leans in. She’s got this calm front, but it’s cracking.

“Why don’t we slow it down a little?” She’s struggling to keep cool, and I’m enjoying every second.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I watch her, hungry for the way she trembles.

“Yoga’s about patience, not—” Her voice catches as I roll to my side. She’s hot and bothered, and I’m feeling it.

“It’s been hard,” I say, and look down at my crotch.

“What?” Her voice is breathy.

“To get you out of my mind.” I say it fast, then hold her gaze.

“Yoga is supposed to help you relax.” Her voice is almost a whisper.

“You can tell it’s not working,” I say, making sure she sees how worked up I am. Her eyes drift, and she’s taking it all in. Her yoga focus is gone, and I’ve got all her attention now. I want her. More than I did when I thought it’d be a one-night thing.

“Jasper, I don’t know if this is—” Her words fizzle, and I watch her control dissolve. It’s too much for her. She’s backpedaling.

“You’re the expert. Why don’t you show me?”

She hesitates, caught between the right thing and the hot thing.

“Just one,” she says, giving in.

Her hesitation fires me up. I sit on the mat, and she straddles me, guiding my arms up.

“See?” I say, testing her with every word. “Easy when we’re together.” She holds my hand, and I pull her in.

“Let’s not,” she whispers.

“I think we should,” I say, loving how this changes the game.

We’re off the mat now, lost in each other.

Her leggings. My pants. I kiss her so hard until her legs wrap around my waist. I take the two long strides with her like that over to the wall where I placed my wallet.

She watches me as I pull out a condom. Then she hangs on like a koala as I sheath myself.

In the next move, I have her back against the mirrored wall and am sliding into her center, testing her limits. I already know how far I can push them.

“It’s too much,” she breathes out with her eyes closed and mouth open.

“I told you it was hard.” My voice is tight with more than desire. With wanting her more than I should.

“What if someone walks in? The front door is not locked,” she asks, but I don’t care.

“Then I hope they bring popcorn for the show, or their own lube to get themselves off, because, baby, we are hot as hell,” I say. The thought of being so naughty gets her. Bad. She moans, like she can’t help it.

“Jasper,” she says on a plea.

“Tell me you don’t care,” I say, moving so slow it’s punishment.

Her mouth is on mine, and I can feel her lose it.

“You want them to see,” I say, pushing it. Knowing she’s too turned on to stop me. I hold her gaze. Challenge her.

“Fuck,” she breathes, and I feel her explode around me. Her fingertips grip onto my back, her mouth clamped over my shoulder. Her whole body is hot and frantic.

I’m right there, at the edge. It feels so goddamn good. I give her the words that worked before. “Fuck me, Trinity.” It’s what it takes. She’s gasping, her body wild.

“Yes, Jasper!” And she does. She fucks me hard. Our bodies slap against each other vociferously. I come, so deep it feels like I might never stop.

She collapses, breathing heavy and loud. Her heart’s racing, her cheeks red, her ponytail a mess. We stay there, tangled up, not caring who sees. Her skin is warm under me, and I feel every tremble.

“Did I relax you yet?” she finally says, her voice shaky and sweet.

“You’ve got a lot more work to do to be able to relax me, baby.” I kiss her neck and make my mark there, tasting her sweat. She will be mine as long as my mark appears on this gorgeous body.